


Where There's Smoke

by The_Quartermasters



Category: One Piece
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-09 11:20:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4346627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Quartermasters/pseuds/The_Quartermasters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marooned together on a small island, Smoker and Ace are forced to learn to rely on each other to survive. Written April 2004</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Ace's back and shoulders ached still from the flogging he'd received earlier. He didn't realize how he sometimes took for granted the ability to ignite himself and escape a physical blow. But with seastone shackles tightly locked around his wrists, he had no way to protect himself from the lashes that now marked his back. It was a sort of warning torture-session, he was sure. He could very easily be in much more pain than he was. The Marines tended to avoid extreme cruelty -- but the ache that lingered was a warning that they were not incapable of it if need be. He hadn't even been swayed, wincing a grin at Smoker-taisa as he was questioned about the whereabouts of Luffy and White Beard. He'd sooner die at the brunt of those lashes, still smiling defiantly under his smoky rival's gaze than betray either his brother or his captain. 

Luckily though, his martyrdom wouldn't be called for as he'd skillfully managed to nip the keys of one of the junior officers who'd escorted him back to the brig after his beating. Now with his back to the wall, he was careful not to let the keys jingle as he struggled to maneuver them to test each one in the shackles that held his wrists behind his back. If there was one thing he hated the most about being restrained with seastone, it was being cold. The brig probably wasn't *that* uncomfortably cold but it felt positively chilly to the boy who was so used to being warmed by an inner flame. And when the shackles finally slipped free, it brought a broad grin to his face when familiar warmth sparked up his stomach and spread through his chest. Much better. 

He could be stealthier and quieter than he might appear and Ace was quick to silently fell the guard with a stunning blow to his neck, leaving his crumpled form in the doorway. On the alert, he hurried to make his way up to the deck where inky darkness of deepest night painted the sky deep indigo. He'd have to be careful to stay out of sight of any of the officer's on watch. It was no small feat, escaping from a Marine ship, particularly one as heavily armed and manned as Smoker's. But it wasn't the first time Ace had fled from Marine shackles or slipped through Smoker's fingers for that matter.

He was loathe to leave behind his schooner or his affects, particularly his Lockpost, but he had no idea where either of them were being kept and couldn't risk the time and danger it would take to search for them. So the shorts and boots he was left with and a Marine-issue escape boat would have to do. At the aft of the ship, he started silently untying the ropes that held one of the small vessels. He only needed to get to the water and he'd be home free with the fire-fueled propulsion he had at his fingertips.

The pirate hadn't pulled free two of the looped ropes before the familiar, cold, solid tip of a jitte pressed against the skin between his shoulderblades, the seastone weapon sucking hungrily at Ace's inner fire. A low growl rumbled in the Marine captain's throat as he glared down at the man who had almost escaped his ship. "Going somewhere, pirate?" 

Ace's heart skipped a beat at the Marine's deep voice, his hands freezing in their work. Turning his head slightly, he shot a grin over his shoulder at Smoker. The jitte stung against his fresh lashes, as cold as the gaze that bore into him. "You are a force to be reckoned with, aren't you, Taisa."

Smoke ignored the comment, merely furrowing his brow further, never breaking his glare or the grip on his weapon. "If I recall, we still have a... conversation to complete." He didn't know how the pirate had managed to shake his bonds, but he made a mental note to find out who was responsible, whose careless actions had led to a valuable prisoner's near-escape. 

Ace turned slowly, lifting his hands a little, innocently, when Smoker's jitte pressed against his chest persistently. "About that," he began. "I was thinking maybe next time we should do that over lunch instead. It would be much more pleasant for both of us, don't you think? Unless of course you've got a thing for young men being flogged."

Smoker growled, sweeping the jitte up to bump Ace's chin, a warning, but he kept his cool, refusing to let this trash get him worked up. "I've no interest in exchanging pleasantries. You can tell me now where that strawhatted brat was last headed or you can take a swim right now." 

"I've got a better idea," Ace replied, his grin curling slightly, his eyes hardening. He wasn't playing anymore. He knew he could at least come to a draw with Smoker, man to man. He wasn't afraid of him or the seastone he hid behind. "You step back and let me go. Don't call any of your men. You could even give me this nice little rowboat here as a parting gift. Otherwise, I'm afraid I'm going to have to do some damage to this fine ship of yours."

Smoker recognized the hard glint in Ace's eyes. It was the same determination he'd shown throughout his silence on the whereabouts of his brother. He also knew that hesitation on his part would only risk losing control of the situation. So almost before he took his next breath, his arm had shot out to surround the boy in a ring of billowing smoke. Threat or no threat, he couldn't let this pirate get away, not when he had such valuable information.

Ace grunted as the coils of the captain's smoky serpent wound around him, such an odd texture that smoke was on his frozen skin. Solid enough to wrap around him, hold him tight yet allowing the dangerous jitte to still rest against his chest. He only needed a split second to break contact with the seastone and he squirmed, jerked in Smoker's grip until he felt that spark in him ignite again for the briefest moment. And then he was gone, leaving Smoker's coils empty while a flame danced, darted through the white plume and through Smoker's shoulder for Ace to re-emerge behind him, flickering to a safe distance, out of reach of the seastone. "You know we're evenly matched, Smoker," he said quietly, darkly. His fist glowed with flame. "But I have the advantage when we're on a vessel of wood. I've got enough marks on my sheet -- I don't *want* to add destruction of Marine property to my charges."

Smoker's cigars glowed as he breathed, sucked the scented smoke in through his teeth. "You're already in enough shit that one more tally won't make a difference." It was true that they were evenly matched, but pride and his duty as a Marine would not let Smoker sit back as this bastard stole Marine property -and- made a fool of him. "Destroying this ship would be suicide for you, just as much as for me. This deck is all that's between you and that water." 

Ace's eyes flashed, that grin of his never so much as faltering. "But it gives me time to borrow one of your nice little boats here. Somehow I think your men will be more interested in bringing a stop to fiery death than the escape of little old me." Sparks showered dangerously from his fingertips.

There really was no choice, Smoker rationalized. He absolutely could not give in to a pirate and so jitte in one hand, his other roiling in smoke, the Marine surged toward Ace, teeth grinding his twin cigars into shreds. 

Smoke and fire curled and whipped together, Ace flickering to the right, out of the path of the jitte and again into the roiling white that was Smoker. Though half his visage swirled with flame, it didn't prevent him from smirking into Smoker's face. His wrist lashed out, fingers snapping around Smoker's wrist that held the jitte that was such a threat, his grip superheating and burning through the leather of Smoker's glove almost instantly. Ace could only hope that the burn would surprise the captain enough to drop the weapon or force him to revert his other hand to its smoky form, compromising his grip.

And indeed, the captain's first reaction was to fight the burn with smoke. He swore as the jitte clattered to the deck, but didn't hesitate or let it distract him more than a split second. And in the next moment he was lashing out with both arms to grab for the fiery pirate, even as he kicked the weapon back into the air with a heavy boot.

Successful, Ace's flaming hand danced away from Smoker's wrist, only too aware of the stone jitte that was too close to him for comfort. He could almost feel the power of the stone, even without it touching his skin. He darted into the smoke shield that the left side of Smoker's body provided, the captain's swirling mass roiling with protest and anger around him, throughout him. As long as he stayed close, their ethereal forms entangled, Smoker couldn't use the seastone against him without subjecting himself to its effects. He only half-materialized, behind Smoker's shoulder and still thoroughly entwined with his smoke to speak into the Marine's ear. "You can't beat me, Taisa. I'm your perfect match." Distracted with the fight, neither pirate or officer noticed the little flames that were flickering to life in the shower of sparks that the mixing of smoke and fire produced and rained down on the wooden deck and nearby crates and lengths of rope.

Smoker knew the pirate spoke true. This wasn't the first time they'd fought, wasn't the first time they'd met in a swirl of smoke and fire like this, and for a few moments, he forgot the ship, forgot his duty in the face of the adrenaline, the thrill of the clashing of power. Not even the damned rubber brat had forged such spark in him. And he let even more of his form raise into the swirling column of smoke.

Ace grinned to himself even as he let his form slip back into flame, weaving, coiling with Smoker's billows, getting equally caught up in the swirling formlessness of their struggle, surging and sparking and flowing. A matchless sort of fight where the two opponents were so tangled in one another that they were indistinguishable, until even Ace wasn't sure where his ethereal form ended and Smoker's began. Smoker's officers had by now become aware of the growing firestorm but the two warring men were oblivious to them, even as flames licked up the walls of the cabins and along the deck. Shouts for hoses to extinguish the flames were called across the deck, Smoker's men hurrying to put out the flames as they approached the armory.

A portion of Smoker's face coalesced for the briefest moment, just enough to form words that were torn from his lips and rushed away with the strength of their battle. "How long will you persist in this?" If Ace answered, he never heard it as a deafening explosion lit up the sky and lit up the sky and the ship beneath their hovering forms. 

The swirling of smoke and fire was hit by the shockwave of the explosion as the flames they'd created reached the armory, the resulting explosion taking out half of the ship. The roil and churn of their mingled forms was interrupted by foreign, acrid smoke and a wave of heat and thrown debris. The shockwave hit them hard -- they were close enough to the armory that had they been in their human forms, they would have been instantly killed. Instead the roiling firestorm was blown overboard with the rest of the smoke and debris from the explosion and Ace's heat drew back from the Marine's smoke, separating to reform their human bodies. Unfortunately, they had already been thrown far clear of the ship by then and Ace winced as the dark surface of the sea filled his vision. In the split second before the sea water completely overpowered him, an arm flailed out and caught a large piece of debris which he latched on to, pulling himself out of the water as much as he could, panting and shaking his wet hair out of his eyes. 

A quick glance around revealed Smoker's unmoving form on the opposite side of the debris, quickly starting to sink. Ace swore under his breath but didn't so much as hesitate or spare a second thought before he mustered the last of his strength to scramble further on to the piece of deck and grab the collar of Smoker's jacket before he could sink any further. Straining against the effects of the sea, he hauled the Marine onto their floating savior, slipping partially back into the water as he did so. Gasping for breath, the last thing Ace's unfocusing eyes took in was the glowing form of Smoker's ship at an impressive distance, ablaze with equally impressive flames and towers of smoke rising over them. 

 

When Smoker finally woke it was to a bright blue midday sky above and the rough crunch of damp sand beneath him. He groaned as he reached up a hand to brush away the salt that clung to the corners of his mouth and eyes. After a long moment, he was finally able to lurch up into a sitting position, and discovered that at least part of the reason for the ache in his head and neck and the vague sense of weakness stemmed from the fact that the lower half of his body was still being nudged at by the ocean tide. Pulling his legs from the water to sit farther back on the beach drew his attention to the prone form mere yards from his own position. And he remembered the other reason for his headache. 

A quick glance around at the debris that lay scattered across the beach further served to jog his memory and he swore aloud as he reached out to pick up a piece of what had once been the deck of his ship. He could only vaguely recall the events that must have occurred after the explosion. Counted himself damned lucky he hadn't drowned. Counted himself exceedingly -unlucky- that he'd been washed up on the same beach as the pirate. With a deep scowl he pushed to his feet, throwing away the piece of wood and shrugging out of his water logged coat. He cursed a second time as his teeth ground against nothing, cigars ruined by salt water. If the pirate wasn't already dead, he was going to kill him. He crossed the distance between them and poked a toe into the boy's ribs, pushing him over on his side so see if he still breathed.

Ace's limp body rolled easily over, sand sticking to his face and chest. Mouth hanging open, for a long moment he was silent, unmoving before the seaside quiet was punctuated with a loud snore.

Smoker scowled again, more darkly for the new found knowledge that the pirate still lived. He squat down next to the boy, peeling off his wet gloves and reached a bare hand into the dark damp locks, got a grip and shook him slightly. When there was no response but a louder grunting snore, the Marine lifted Ace's head clear of the sand and released it, letting it flop back with a wet smacking thunk. Dammit, there'd be no satisfaction in kicking the pirate's ass if he slept through the whole thing. 

Ace snorted and his shoulders gave a jerk before his eyes snapped open and he jerked into a sitting position, quite nearly hitting his head on Smoker's shins. He blinked sleepily. "Where...?" Looking around, he blinked more, making a rather comical sight with sand caked on his face. He scanned the horizon and the empty, stretching sea before he found himself face-to-cap with Smoker's knees and finally looked up at the Marine's face. "Oh! You're not dead."

Smoker stayed low, leaning forward, arms on knees and shot a glare at the boy, grinding his teeth together out of habit. After a moment he let out a sigh and rubbed a thumb between his eyes, fruitlessly trying to smooth the creases there. "Unfortunately," he rumbled with a roll of his eyes. The Marine could think of few things worse than being stranded on an unfamiliar beach with a pirate. -This- pirate in particular. "Have a pleasant nap?" he asked with a trace of a sneer. 

Ace stifled a faint groan as he sat up more. His back protested the movement and the salt and sand making his raw skin burn. Exposure to the sea for so long left him feeling very weak. "I think I have a saltwater hangover," he mumbled, pushing his hair away from his face and brushing sand off his cheeks. Turning slightly to look over his shoulder, his eyes fell on the lush, tropical treeline that stretched along the length of the white beach. "Where are we?"

Smoker shrugged and sat back, deciding that standing wasn't immediately necessary. "Your guess is as good as mine." He reached up to run fingers through his short white hair, shaking sand from the strands. "Though if you don't know, I'm not sure what reason is left to keep you alive. Shitty pirate..." His voice trailed off into a grumble, but he made no signs of movement, in truth, still nursing his own aches.

Ace pouted slightly, looking hurt. "I'm better company than whatever poisonous animals I'm sure there are around here," he shot back. "Besides, I'd like to see you try to make a campfire or hunt. It's not exactly sipping tea on deck." He spoke as though he made a habit of being stranded on deserted islands. 

Smoker bristled at the mention of his deck. His deck that was now scattered about them in a million pieces. One of these splinters he picked up, snapped it in two and tossed the remnants back into the sand. "Plenty of firewood," he growled, "from the deck that you BLEW UP. MY deck." The Marine captain's eyes were sharp, accusing. "My deck that I can no longer HAVE my tea out on." Nevermind that the pirate was probably right. He -could- start a fire under dire circumstances, but it'd be far less trouble for this living torch to simply snap his fingers. He just wasn't sure yet if it was -worth- the trouble. He was stubborn and not willing to give in so easily. Besides, there was still the matter of his SHIP to discuss.

"Oi!" Ace protested defensively, straightening and scowling back at the Marine. "I GAVE you a warning! I didn't want to do it -- you think *I'm* happy about this? I lost my schooner! Not to mention my *hat*!"

"Fuck your hat!" Smoker snapped back. "I lost my GODDAMNED SHIP! In case you were wondering, the government doesn't just hand them out like candy." One large hand dug into the sand angrily. "And don't give me that bullshit that I -made- you do it. No one. NO ONE 'gives me warnings'. You couldn't have expected me to respond to your disgusting, groveling threats." His lip raised in a sneer. 

This seemed to strike a cord in the younger man and he bristled, his eyes darkening as he raised a hand to press a finger into Smoker's chest. "And you couldn't have expected *me* to sit around and let you beat me to death for information you knew I wouldn't give!" He returned the sneer, freckled nose wrinkling. "*Groveling*, was I? Funny how I was the one 'groveling' yet I'm a free man and you're shipless!"

"Free to be stuck on some god forsaken chunk of land in the middle of Grandline's nowhere without a Lockpost or even any GODDAMNED idea of where we are!" Smoker was fuming now, one hand beginning to smoke and swirl. "Your precious freedom does NEITHER of us any fucking good now and you might have -thought- of that before BLOWING UP MY SHIP!" 

Ace's eyes narrowed dangerously, sparks dancing around his fingers. "Maybe *you* should have thought about it before you took on someone you know you can't handle," he said, voice low, dropping the chipper persona he normally sported. 

"WHAT can't I handle!?" Smoker raged, lunging forward with both hands for Ace's throat, rippling ribbons of smoke spilling from his mouth and fingertips. "SAY that again, you little fuck!"

Ace grinned defiantly into Smoker's face even as they both toppled back into the wet sand which hissed in protest as Ace's rapidly heating body rolled across the moisture. His grabbed Smoker's shoulders with fiery fingers, flames licking at his wet hair. Steam coming off of his body swirled with the captain's smoke. "You tell me, Skipper," he growled back, rolling through the sand. "You're the one stuck here with -- what'd you call me? A shitty pirate?"

What Smoker would have given to have his jitte in hand right now. He cursed inwardly at the first realization that the weapon, too was lost to him. And he turned his focus on the retribution his situation demanded. Smoky hands clawed at Ace's neck, squeezing, a half-crazed sneer colored his mouth. "I'm beginning to realize that 'shitty pirate' doesn't begin to do you the proper credit," he managed between grunts and growling. "It's too good for a worthless little SHIT like you."

Ace's determination faltered, eyes blinking as he gagged and gasped for air -- he couldn't muster the ability to slip, fiery through Smoker's fingers. But he hardened again, realizing that Smoker's own powers must be weakened as well and the hands gripping the Marine's bare shoulders heated rapidly, sparks showering down his muscled arms even as Ace struggled for air, his face flushing darkly.

Smoker's eyes flew wide as the flesh of his arms swirled feebly and solidified once again. It was only then that he became aware of the burning at his shoulders and arms and with a startled grunt he released the pirate and fell backwards, sprawling into the sand and gasping with the effort it suddenly took to make his vision focus. He reached back to touch his collar in disbelief, flinching. He- he'd been -burned-? 

Gulping in air like a hooked fish allowed the black at the edges of Ace's vision to recede and he coughed, sprawled equally awkwardly across from Smoker. He felt terribly weak and didn't dare move again yet. Panting, he forced back a swallow and managed a sort of half-grin at the captain. "I told you, saltwater hangover," he managed. "Look," he continued, taking advantage of Smoker's state of momentary incapacitation. Angry red, hand-shaped welts were rising on the Marine's skin. "I know you don't like it, but we're stuck here for now, at least until my fire comes back. Then I can easily jet us out of here on a raft. But until then, it isn't going to do either of us any good if we're constantly -- er, at each other's throats."

Smoker didn't speak then, just struggled back into a sitting position and glowered, trying to ignore the painful swelling of the handprints on his shoulders. Finally after a long stretch of silence he grunted, the closest to agreement that he'd allow himself to express. And at the present moment, all he wanted, quite suddenly, to do was get dry and out of this clinging, gritty sand. 

Having mostly caught his breath, Ace hauled himself awkwardly to his feet. Quite the pair they made now, Ace with lashes on his back and fingerprints on his neck while Smoker sported a nice new set of burns. He wondered briefly if those hand marks would remain, studying the angry flesh while his legs readjusted to supporting his weight again. He shot a grin down at Smoker then, lifting a leg to pull off one of his waterlogged boots. Wrinkled toes squished at the sand when his bare foot was set back down. "Don't pout so," he chided. "It'll be like camping!"

Smoker raised a skeptical brow as he watched the water slosh out of Ace's boot. He raised his eyes to the boy's grinning face and crossed his arms across his chest. "I don't like camping." he stated simply, but rose to his feet as well, not one to be outdone by the scrawny pirate.

Ace sighed and rolled his eyes patiently, tugging off his other boot. "Then it'll be like *boot camp*," he replied, giving Smoker an expectant look.

Smoker's other brow twitched now as he brushed the sand from his aching limbs. "YOU wouldn't like boot camp," he replied, doing his best to emphasize his opinion of Ace's patience and stamina. 

"Well then, I suppose we're even," Ace said blandly. It was clear the Marine was going to make this as difficult as possible, but he was equally determined not to let it affect him. Picking up his boots, he stepped past Smoker to walk up the beach toward the tree line. "We should look for a fresh water source." He was eager to wash the taste of the sea from his mouth. If there was a pool on the island, that would be even better, if they could rinse away the traces of sea salt that clung to their skin and hair.

Smoker balked at the prospect of following the pirate anywhere, but on further contemplation, he really had no other better course of action to take. And fresh water did sound desirable. So urging his stiff muscles into action, the Marine trudged after the pirate, pausing only long enough to sweep up his still soaking jacket. Perhaps the cigars could be salvaged if they had a chance to dry.


	2. Chapter 2

The brush grew thicker than it appeared from the beach and Ace had to pull his boots back on to trudge through the undergrowth. He muttered something about how it'd be nice to have his confiscated knife about now. They happened across an animal path but before they continued, Ace insisted on climbing a tree and when he came back down, his efforts had wielded a hefty stock of bananas which he kept under his arm as they kept on, leaving a trail of banana peels in their wake.

Smoker was vaguely surprised and vaguely disgusted by how much the boy could eat in such a relatively short period of time. In all honesty he was rather peekish himself, but he'd never admit it or ask the pirate to share. Instead he kept pace with Ace, brief sideways glances from the corner of his eyes the only sign he even acknowledged the other's existence. His stomach, however, finally betrayed him with a telling rumble, which he tried to cover with a cough. 

Aware of the cold shoulder he was receiving, Ace respected the stony silence that stretched as they made their way through the thick tropical forest, punctuated by the sounds of birds and occasional rustling around them. His mouth was too preoccupied stuffing it with bananas anyway. Ace's ears pricked at the growling sound though, going on the alert at the sound of a nearby wild animal -- that is until he realized it was the captain's stomach and a grin split his lips, eyeing Smoker askance. "Hungry?" he asked mildly, innocently and bit off another half of a banana in one mouthful.

Smoker scoffed silently, as though he were offended that Ace would have even thought he'd want to share food with a pirate. He turned his narrowed gaze on the boy and the bananas. "No."

Ace's grin broadened and he swung around to walk in front of Smoker, jogging backwards. "You're a very bad liar, you know. Too much Marine honor, I suppose." He offered a half-peeled and half-eaten banana. "Don't be shy. I'll share."

Smoker stopped walking, folded his arms across his bare chest and scowled. "Shy?" he raised a brow. "Look here. I have no interest in -sharing- anyth--"

Smoker's protest was stopped dead by the banana that Ace shoved between his teeth, a wicked sort of mirth dancing in the younger man's eyes. "Just because I picked them doesn't make them pirate bananas, you know. No pirate cooties or anything." Dropping the peel, he shot a smirk over his shoulder at Smoker as he continued on, tossing another piece of fruit, this one unpeeled, at him.

Smoker's eyes widened and he fought to not gag at the sudden surprising intrusion in his mouth. But he caught the second fruit easily, scowling at it and it's origin only for a moment before stuffing it away in a pocket and turning his attention to the banana still in his mouth. He bit off the end and chewed thoughtfully for a moment, steadfastly avoiding Ace's eyes as they began moving forward again. When he'd finished the first, he was silent for a moment before a "Thanks," could be heard, muttered grudgingly.   
A smile tugged faintly at the corner of Ace's mouth. He knew better than to respond to that grudging thanks. He knew Smoker had a smoldering hatred for him, as he did for all pirates, just as his reputation preceded him. He didn't trust the captain for a moment. He knew that the second he had the chance he'd have Ace in irons. But he had no personal grudge against the man or even any particular dislike. He just was as he was, as a Marine. Besides, there was some measure of respect in him for the man, one of the few who could really put up a fight against Ace. And furthermore, he was great fun to get riled up. "This really isn't so bad, is it?" Ace thought aloud, feeling refreshed by the snack. He tucked his arms behind his head as they continued to follow the path. It really wasn't either -- the weather was pleasant, warm and just the tiniest bit humid. The smell of the lush forest was refreshing . "A pretty decent excuse for a vacation, na?"

Smoker turned his face to stare at the boy. "Vacation?" he repeated in annoyed disbelief. "This is -not- my idea of a vacation." He frowned. "In fact, as soon as we find water, we'll head back to the beach and set up a smoke signal. The Marines will certainly be sending a ship to look for survivors." He allowed himself the tiniest smirk. "And since you're so good with fire, you can light it."

Ace pulled a face at this piece of information. The prospect of being found by a shipload of Marines -- especially when he wasn't up to par and couldn't put up a decent fight -- did not sound like fun. He mumbled, a bit of petulance in his voice, "You're the one that specializes in smoke, why don't you take care of it..." It wasn't exactly a protest, just a mild complaint. He knew they'd be far better off if they worked together -- but he had a feeling Smoker might only be willing to work together when his best interests were in mind. However, he also knew it worked both ways. So he'd light Smoker's stupid signal in the end. "I can't imagine they think you're alive though. That woman of yours is probably crying over your grave by now."

Smoker bristled visibly. "First of all, I can't keep a smoke signal going indefinitely without -real- flame under it and SECOND, she is NOT my woman!" He reached out a thick finger and held it shaking slightly in front of Ace's nose, and his voice dropped, low and threatening. "And third, they -will- find me -and- you and when they do, I'll have your head for destroying my ship." 

"Don't get cocky now, Taisa," Ace responded, an annoyed sneer tugging at his lip. He pushed Smoker's hand away from his face with a hand on the man's wrist so that he could lean in even further. "If recall, it was you who let me escape in the first place. Somehow I don't think your beloved organization will be to happy with you when they find you're not at the bottom of the sea."

Smoker arm twisted out of Ace's grip in a swirl of smoke and he growled low, menacing. Though it hadn't been his pocket the keys had been stolen from, as the ship's commander, it was his duty to assume responsibility for the actions of all the men beneath him. He couldn't argue with the man on that point...but he could make a valiant effort. A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "As long as we're stuck here, the both of us, you aren't free yet. And since your head will more than pay for a new ship, I figure they'll forgive me pretty quick."

Ace's nostrils flared at the remark and he snorted faintly. "Neither of us are free men as long as we're stuck on this island," he replied, growing increasingly annoyed. He was just trying to make the best of the situation but hearing how he was going to be clapped in irons constantly and feeling like Smoker was making himself Ace's personal parole officer was really getting on his nerves. "And if we don't work *together* it's going to make things a hell of a lot less pleasant and take a lot longer to get out of here at all." If they didn't kill each other first, he added to himself. 

Smoker took a threatening step forward, folding his arms across his broad chest and looking down the bridge of his nose at the shorter boy. He narrowed his eyes. "On second thought, I'll take care of that signal myself. Personally, nothing immediately comes to mind that would be -less- pleasant than 'working together'." The sarcastic emphasis on those last two words was not lost on Ace.

It was Ace's turn to bristle this time -- he'd tried. Gods know, he'd tried. He was being sensible. He was being calm. He was being downright *polite* to the man who'd had him chained and bound and beaten and this was what he got back? He growled, not backing down as Smoker moved in and brought them nearly nose to nose. "You stupid, arrogant, stubborn, pig-headed Marine drone," he fumed through his teeth. "I should have let you drow--" It was at this point that something extremely fast and extremely tickly shot up Ace's arm and neck. A lizard the length of his own hand, though long and serpentine darted out of the bananas still tucked under Ace's arm and ran, tongue flicking, up his arm and neck and over his cheek and bridge of his nose. In the split second it took for the reptile to dart across his freckles, he let out a startled yelp, quite nearly butting heads with Smoker as he jumped.

Equally startled, but possessing of reflexes that often thought before he did, Smoker took one step back and with the back of his heavy hand, struck out at Ace's face, succeeding in startling the small scaly creature away, but also making a rather powerful, though unintentional, contact with the pirate's cheek bone. 

Ace stumbled back, the blow stinging sharply across his cheek and darkening a smart red. The lizard hit the ground harmlessly and scurried away as quickly as it had appeared. Blinking rapidly at Smoker, Ace wasn't sure whether to laugh out loud or strike back at the other man. Finally he laughed bitterly, smiling with a sweet sort of venom at the Marine. "Fine then. Go find water yourself," he said shortly and dropping the last of the bananas, he stepped off the path, pushing into the heavy brush and disappearing into the green.

For a good few moments, Smoker simply stood blinking as the boy turned and left. Scowling slightly, but with less fervor than earlier, he finally stooped to pick up the abandoned fruits, checking carefully for any other hiding critters before tucking it under an arm and continued following the animal trail they'd originally set out on. It seemed the best thing to do. If this was the path of any sort of normal creature, it would eventually lead to water, he reasoned. 

He'd been traveling for a good couple of before the monotony of the jungle landscape began to force Smoker's thoughts to subjects he'd been avoiding. Eventually, his mind wandered back to the pirate and the words he'd thought he heard uttered before the lizard had appeared. --Should have let you drow-- Drown? Smoker reached up with his free hand to brush back his short hair with a small sigh. He hated to think his life had ever been in that boy's hands, but if he wasn't lying.... Smoker groaned quietly, furrowing his brow and wishing for the hundredth time his cigars weren't still too damp to smoke. Not that he had anything to light them with anyway.... He hated complications. He hated being indebted to anything or anyone. He hated pirates. He hated this island. And he -hated- wandering and walking and scanning the endless green and brown that was all around him on the off-chance that he'd stumble across drinkable water. 

But that's just what he did. And not a half a moment later he had to halt his footstep suddenly or walk right off the small cliff that he found himself standing before. The path curved sharply to his left and stretching out in front of him was open air over a decently sized pool. To his right, a small stream bent and fell, splashing into the water below. Smoker almost smiled in relief and was about to continue down the path when another movement caught his eye and to his chagrin, a damp black head popped from the pond's surface before diving down again. The pirate had already found this place. Smoker scanned the banks below and noticed the boy's shorts and boots piled on a nearby rock. He hesitated. 

Ace had happened upon the pool some time earlier and had immediately quenched his sea-parched lips. Feeling quite satisfied with himself, and confident that he in fact *didn't* need to concern himself with trying to achieve Smoker's co-operation or in fact bother sparing a thought to the other man's well-being. He could just as easily avoid Smoker entirely if he wanted. He wasn't dependent on being saved by the Marines. Once the sea water was flushed from his body, he could easily get himself back to civilization. Let the stubborn ass struggle with his smoke signal and pray for rescue. It just meant one less spat with the Marines if and when they showed up. With this in mind, Ace had laid back for a nap which he woke from with a refreshed awareness of the salt that still clung to his hair and filmed his skin. 

The pool was clean, fresh water so didn't incapacitate him the way the power of the sea did, though he still couldn't swim in it. At its deepest though, it couldn't have been more than five feet so it made for a fine bathing pool. Letting the salt and grit rinse from his skin felt fantastic and he was inclined to stay in the water perhaps longer than he aught. But finally after letting himself soak for some time, he dunked his head one last time before making his way back to the shore. Afternoon light was streaming into the clearing and he sighed a pleased sigh as he stepped out of the water, letting the warm day dry the water from his naked skin. He stretched, arching his back before giving his hair a good shake and ruffling with his fingers, letting droplets fling from the dark locks. The salty residue washed away, he could already feel his heat starting to return, licking just the slightest from behind his breastplate.

Smoker stood above, unmoving as the younger man stepped, utterly bare from the water, watched him shake the drops from his hair, watched the muscles stretch and shift under his brown skin... and suddenly looked away, down at his own feet with a scowl and a grumble under his breath about the immodesty of filthy pirates. He considered, for a brief moment, turning and leaving the clearing, seeking out some other water source, but the sight of the clear, fresh water below reminded him of the salt and grime that crusted his hair and skin and weakened his body as well as his smoke skills. Besides he ached to wash the grit and the taste of salt and banana from his mouth. So putting on a frown and throwing his jacket over one shoulder began heading down the trail toward the banks below, after a few steps, clearing his throat loud enough to announce his presence.

Ace started slightly at the sound, turning to blink up at Smoker as he descended the steep incline. Tucking his arms behind his head, showing no chagrin, quite true to that immodesty, he made no move to cover himself as Smoker approached. There was a certain sting of annoyance at seeing the other man but he managed to keep most of the curl out of his lip. "What took you so long?" he asked breezily, summoning a crooked smirk. "Get lost?"

Smoker raised an eyebrow as he approached and deposited his coat near Ace's own clothing, not deigning to answer the boy's taunting. Instead he chose a relatively flat rock to sit and pry off his own boots, avoiding the other's eyes as he rolled up his pant cuffs and stooped by the edge of the water, splashing his face clean and drinking his fill. For a few moments he almost forgot about the naked smart-ass standing mere feet away from him.

Ace made a face at the back of Smoker's head before turning away, crossing the clearing to pull a fruit from a tree before returning to the water's edge where he perched on a rock only somewhat near the Marine, letting the sun-heated stone warm his skin. He was again annoyed at the absence of his knife as he dug into the skin of the mango with his thumb. It occurred to him that it was likely that Smoker had some sort of knife on him, even a pocket knife since Marines were supposedly prepared for anything. He wasn't about to ask though. However, the long-stretching silence as he chewed on the fruit, tearing away the tough skin, began to grate at him and eventually he spoke up. "The beach isn't far from here," he said offhandedly. "Maybe ten minutes' walk." He wasn't sure himself why he was offering information to the man whose company he'd been swearing himself off of not an hour earlier.

Smoker nodded thoughtfully, without turning around as he filed away this information. He could head that way later on, set up camp and a signal fire. But right now he had other things to attend to. And he stood again, back still to the boy, stubbornly ignoring his presence as he stepped out of his heavy Marine-issue slacks and briefs and tossed them aside. With an audible groan he eased into the pool up to his waist, ducking his head once and letting the water stream through his short hair and down his well-muscled back. It wasn't because he had anything to be ashamed of that he refused to turn around. It wasn't even, exactly that he disapproved of the company (though he -did-). In all honestly, he simply hadn't had to shower in -anyone's- presence since his early career as a lowly Marine private. (And he'd risen in the ranks quick enough that that practice was soon a thing of the past.) So it was, in his current way of thinking, a strange thing to be suddenly forced to do.

Lounging back and sucking at the softer and juicier fruit beneath the skin, Ace regarded Smoker's naked back and broad shoulders. He didn't think much of the Marine's somewhat modest nature -- even though he did go around with his jacket flapping in the breeze, Ace had a mild sense of surprise that he'd stripped in front of him at all. Surely there must be some Marine code about never letting a pirate see them naked, he thought bemusedly to himself. He allowed another brief silence to stretch, content for the moment to tear away the meat of the fruit from the skin and lazily watch Smoker bathe. He was vaguely aware of the nuisance he was making of himself but had little regard for whatever discomfort he might be causing the older man. "There's a cove, as well," he added as an afterthought finally. "It might be useful for fishing." As good as the fruit around the island was, he was starting to crave a real meal -- fish and cooked meat.

Smoker was pleased to feel his strength begin to return as he bathed and by the time he stepped from the water, clean and cooled, damp hair slicked back and dripping, he found he was ravenously hungry. Those bananas had taken the earlier edge off, but were not really what could be called a meal. And so when the pirate mentioned the possibility of fish, he almost forgot to pull his slacks back on before answering. Hiding a tiny scowl, he dressed, slung his boots and jacket over one shoulder and approached Ace. "Fish would be good," he acknowledged, hunger overcoming the silence. "Have a plan to catch them?" 

Crouched on the rock with his elbows on his knees and a piece of fruit tucked between his teeth, Ace blinked owlishly at the older man as though disbelieving. "Just 'cause you think I'm your prisoner," he began, suspicion hinting his voice, "doesn't make me your servant." The truth was, he'd have no qualms splitting whatever was caught. He wasn't a stingy man. He was just leery of the idea that he had that Smoker would have no qualms either, about ordering Ace around or taking advantage of him.

"Look here," he began as he rummaged through his jacket to pull at one of the seemingly dry cigars. "I don't --want-- your help, and I certainly don't want your servile dotage. All I asked is whether or not you had a way to catch some damned fish, all right?" He glared at Ace over the top of the cigar, sniffing at it, then licking experimentally at its tip. He grimaced at the taste of salt that washed over his tongue. Fuck. 

"You know," Ace remarked rather dryly, watching Smoker experimentally lick at the cigar. "Even if those dry out completely, they'll still be full of sea salt and if you smoke them, you'll pretty much be smoking the seawater. It'll only weaken you more. You should eat some more bananas," he suggested helpfully, nodding back at the trees that lined the clearing. "They're a lot like cigars. Except that they won't kill you slowly and they don't taste like charred ass."

Smoker's brow twitched once, twice as his gaze rose from the cigar in his gradually clenching fingers to the smart-ass grin on the pirate's face. He -knew- that smoking the sea-salty cigars would be a bad idea; he wasn't particularly happy with this fucker rubbing it in. He let the cigar fall from his fingers. His brow twitched again with the effort of not exploding into wrath. "Bananas. Are -nothing- like cigars. And since you're suddenly so concerned for my health, you'd be better off shutting your mouth and thinking of a way to catch some damned -fish-!" 

Finally hopping from the rock, Ace brushed past Smoker to retrieve his shorts which were laid out on another stone. The black fabric was hot from the sun when he pulled them on. "We should probably make nets," he mused, "but in the short term that doesn't do much good. No bait or hooks..." Getting at fish that resided in salt water created an annoying dilemma, as they couldn't wade in to spear fish. He eyed Smoker for a long moment before asking, "How *are* you feeling? Do you have any control over your smoke yet?"

Smoker blinked a moment, then whipped out an arm, dematerializing it into a claw of smoke which snatched up one of Ace's boots and carried it back to fall at Smoker's feet. He raised a brow. "My -control- isn't in question," he grumbled, grudgingly adding, "It's my stamina that isn't up to par."

Ace lifted a brow slightly, eyeing the boot. "Well, if you can handle it," he said, approaching to retrieve his boot and pull it on, "I think I may have an idea." He nodded at Smoker as a beckon as he headed in the direction of the beach. "Maybe you can turn that White Snake of yours into a cottonmouth."

 

Smoker stood, arms folded skeptically as he looked first down at the waters of the small cove Ace had led them to, and then back to the boy who grinned stupidly at him. "Let me get this straight, you're going to throw things into the water to try and scare the fish out and I'm supposed to grab them." Smoker was clearly less than confident about the proposed plan. 

"Unless you'd rather go for a swim and toss them up to me," Ace replied innocently. "Have a better idea?" The cove was full of life below them, the reef that separated it from the ocean creating a peaceful haven for the healthy fish that grazed the waters. It was only the lightly rolling surface of the water that taunted them, keeping a hearty meal just out of reach.

Smoker sighed loudly. "Fine," he huffed. Then with a grunt he waved a hand in Ace's direction. "Well, kid. Take it away, then," with only the briefest rolling of eyes. 

The first few attempts were unsuccessful -- the stones that Ace threw in were too small the startle the fish, instead only inducing their curiosity to something that might be food. Picking larger stones, he disrupted them several times into darting from the spot without jumping until finally the shine of scales reflected the afternoon sun as a startled fish broke the surface, tail thrashing.

Smoker almost missed it, sure as he was that the plan wouldn't work, but at the last split second, his smoke billowed out, the smoky jaw of his snake closing around the fish, snapping its spine and pulling it back to shore were he promptly deposited the catch on a large banana leaf specially laid out for just that purpose. He almost grinned before catching himself and instead bellowed, "Keep it up, Portgas, this one's barely a mouthful."

Ace laughed out loud -- he knew it was a good idea. Maybe after this Smoker would learn to value his opinion a little more. It was rather slow going work -- not every stone made a jump and if it didn't clear the surface, the fish was gone before Smoker could snatch it from the air. Ace found that if he threw harder though, creating more of a disruption, that the fish were more likely to jump. And luckily they didn't learn particularly quickly and returned to the spot as soon as the waters calmed. 

By the time he had snatched up a good 5 or six fish, not to mention the countless misses and false starts he'd made, Smoker was starting to lag. He couldn't hold his smoky form for more than a few seconds and he'd just dropped the third fish because of this. "Hell!" he snapped as the silvery fish fell back into the water. 

Ace was less focused on Smoker's waning energy and more focused on his task of making the fish jump. The more fish he could get to jump the more opportunity there *was* to catch them before Smoker's stamina gave out. Bigger rocks created more disruption, making it more likely to startle them into jumping. So this concept in mind, when Ace returned with a fresh stone, it was considerably larger than those he'd been using -- a good foot in width. The protest that Smoker started to make went unheard and he tossed the rock (more a boulder, really) into the water, giving it a bit of air for good measure. The splash that followed was rather impressive and actually caused several fish to jump, though Smoker's predatory snake didn't lash out at any of them, as the splash had caught him across the stomach, effectively soaking his pants again. Ace all but snorted, clamping a hand over his mouth as he took a step back from the Marine, wide eyed. "Oh shit." There was an undertone, very slight, of laughter in his voice beneath the evident horror.

Smoker stepped backward with a grunt as the saltwater lashed across his skin. He felt the last dregs of his energy leeched away and he sat down, rather quickly, legs splaying out before him, some part of his ego hoping he didn't look utterly weak. "Fuck!" he coughed. "Idiot? What were you thinking?" he rasped. "If I'd wanted to make a tidal wave, I'd have thrown -you- in." He growled, a muttered, "Dumbass," on his lips next.

Chagrined, Ace rubbed at the dark locks at the back of his head, glancing at the fish who were returning to examine the settled rock. "Sorry -- it didn't *seem* that heavy." Now that he took a moment, he noticed the shallowness of Smoker's breath. "I think this is enough for tonight, don't you?" Ace put in, approaching to stand in front of Smoker and offer him a hand. "We should probably set up camp of some sort. You should rest," he added.

Smoker didn't take the hand, but he didn't push it away either. Still, he felt his dignity at stake so he lurched to his feet on his own with a curt nod. "Back to the fresh water then," Smoker agreed. A camp sounded ideal, a nap... less -admittedly- so. 

Evening was creeping on the horizon as they made their way back to the pool. Feeling a certain sense of guilt over the incident with the rock and noticing how Smoker's pace had slowed, he carefully worded his suggestion that Smoker keep an eye on their dinner and the pirate himself skirted away to gather firewood. He himself was still aware of the lack of burn in his chest and realized that Smoker must have exhausted himself with the fishing -- Marines were stubborn like that, he mused to himself as he filled his arms with dry wood. Still, he couldn't help but feel a certain sense of satisfaction over the fact that he'd actually been able to get the man to work with him, almost without conflict, even. And he was pleased to find that Smoker had dozed off when he returned, letting the man sleep while he easily started a campfire with a snap of spark. Luckily though, Smoker woke up when he did, before their fish on makeshift spits over the fire were burned. Ace was slumped near the fire, snoring away with a half-peeled banana still in hand.

Smoker blinked blearily for a couple of moments before swearing and lunging forward to pull their dinner from the flames. He, himself must have dozed off, he realized, looking up at the bits of twinkling starlight that peeked through the canopy above. He looked back to the sleeping pirate with a small scowl as he stuck the sharp end of a spit into the earth by Ace's knee, and settled, crosslegged, by the fire to bite carefully at the hot flesh of his own fish. He'd seen enough of WhiteBeard's first mate to know that you couldn't just shake the boy out of sleep when dozed off like that. So he just waited, enjoying the moment of quiet.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written May 2004

When Smoker woke the next morning, the pirate was no where to be seen. Not, of course, that the Marine went out of his way to look for the boy. No, not when it meant a morning of peace and quiet to contemplate his situation. After a reluctant breakfast of bananas (the yellow fruits were quickly losing their attraction), and a quick splash of fresh water on his face, Smoker picked his way back to the beach and, though he admitted the chances of a signal fire actually being seen, let alone followed, were slim, he started one anyway, with his knife and the handy flint chip he'd managed not to loose in his little swim with the pirate... was it only two days ago? His powers were still weaker than usual, but he coaxed enough from his fingers to significantly encourage the little fire's smoke production. After he was confident it would keep on its own for the time being, he moved a bit farther up the beach and stretched out across the sand, arms crossed under his head and closed his eyes, hoping the pleasant warmth of sun and sand might distract him just the slightest bit from the annoying absence of his cigars. It wasn't long before he fell into a light doze.

As it turned out, the Marine's younger 'partner' as it were had more patience about him than Smoker might have thought. For when Ace showed himself again, it was getting late on into the afternoon and when he found Smoker napping on the beach, slung over his shoulder was a net of braided and woven vines all but filled with fish. Bare feet planted firmly into the sand on either side of Smoker's hips, a wide grin on Ace's freckled face as he bent over the Marine. "Oi, taisa!" He poked a finger into Smoker's forehead, grin widening when his eyes opened. "Hungry?"

Smoker grunted and cracked open one eye, briefly, before shutting it again with a scowl, pushing the boy back as he sat up with a half-stifled yawn. He squinted up against the pirate's sun-edged silhouette and then at his burden and snorted in the closest thing to an expression of surprise he would reveal. "I see you've been busy." He stood then, to eye the net of shining fish more closely. "Why didn't we do it this way the first time, again?"

"Because I was hungry *now*," Ace replied, then paused. "Er, *then*." He nodded over his shoulder. "Netting isn't exactly a quick fix. But this should solve the food problem until we leave. I dunno about you but I'm gonna get tired of bananas pretty fast." This of course hadn't kept him from eating a bunch or two of the fruits while he'd spent the majority of the day and early morning hours weaving. "C'mon," he added impatiently. "It's close enough to dinner time!" Kicking his feet through the warm sand, he hitched the net on his shoulder and started back toward the camp, casting a glance at Smoker's signal. "So what're you gonna do if we're 'rescued' by errant pirates looking for helpless wenches?"

Smoker, already following, hands jammed into his pockets, raised a brow at this and considered for a moment before answering. "Stuff a couple of coconuts in my jacket, make you wear it and trade your pasty ass for passage to the nearest inhabited port?" he suggested, with only the very faintest of smirks.

Ace lifted one unamused brow, eyeing Smoker askance. "That's a pretty lame excuse to get me into women's clothes," he shot back, his voice teasing and his tongue darting between his teeth at the Marine. He did, however, note that it was possible that there *was* some sort of sense of humor beneath Smoker's veneer of gruff anger. No matter how scathing it might be.

Smoker raised his eyebrows briefly before scowling. "My jacket is -NOT- women's clothes," he protested, avoiding, at first, the real accusation underlying Ace's statement. Then as though it had taken him a moment for it to sink in, he reached out and shoved Ace roughly in the back of the head. "It's an excuse to get you into clothes -period-, dumbass..." he grumbled. "Always prancing around like a half-naked five-year-old..." he muttered under his breath. 

Ace turned in a quick movement, jogging backwards in front of Smoker to shoot a skeptical look down Smoker's body. "Because *you're* the master of all things modest and chaste?"

Smoker sneered at the boy. "Least I don't run around in what amounts to little more than glorified boxer shorts," he snapped back. 

"Gotta leave *something* to the little privates' imaginations, na?" Ace replied, a wide, mischievous grin splitting his lips. Before Smoker could White Snake him into the waves though, he turned around and broke into a run down the beach.

Smoker just scowled darkly and decided it wasn't worth the energy to lash out with his smoke at the boy. Besides, he pointed out to himself, he didn't want the little shit to drop all those fish back into the waves. He was, he admitted, hungry. And the signal fire could burn on it's own for now. So, shoulders tense and back straight, he trudged down the beach in Ace's footprints, grumbling and consoling himself with thoughts of scorpions dropped into the boy's hair at night. 

When Smoker caught up with Ace back at their makeshift camp, the boy was already cleaning fish, an innocent whistled tune on his lips. The campfire had been reduced to embers but would be easily restoked with the burn that was growing stronger beneath Ace's skin. Not looking up from his work as he heard Smoker approach, he remarked, "With a decent meal, I'll be able to bring down trees by tomorrow. We can have a raft built and be off this island within a few days."

Smoker sat across the fire from Ace, eyebrows raised in honest surprise. The boy thought they could get off the island on their own? "How would we navigate? No Lock-Post, remember?" He questioned, not entirely sure that leaving was the best idea. At least here there was food and water. 

Ace shrugged slightly, reaching for one of the make-shift spits still stuck in the dirt. "Won't be easy. But it's better than being stuck here. Won't have to rely on the wind -- I can run a raft the same way I run my schooner. It's risky but I figure we've got a better chance at searching for inhabited land or a ship at sea than waiting for help here." He glanced up at Smoker from beneath his brow briefly. "But if you'd rather stick around here and wait for the Marines, be my guest."

Smoker sighed, brow furrowed and he finally shrugged. The pirate made some good points, but he wasn't yet entirely convinced. "Either way, we're stuck her for a few days at least. We can think on it in the meantime," he decided, then eyed the fish that Ace was spearing to cook over the flames. 

With a nod, Ace turned his attention to their meal while Smoker gathered some more fuel for the fire. It wasn't long before the smell of cooking fish filled the clearing, the meal over the fire a feast compared to the night before. While the meal cooked, Ace peeled mangos with the pocket knife he nipped from Smoker's pocket in a brief moment of distraction. The sky was turning a dusky pink when he broke the somewhat comfortable silence that had been cultivated. "It's not as bad as you thought, is it?" he remarked casually, not lifting his eyes from the fleshy peel that coiled toward the rock he was perched on.

Smoker looked up at the words. He blinked. "What? The island?" He hesitated, pulling the bit of fruit into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully before continuing. "Well, you know... doing all right for being stranded and all. Not that I have any interest in making it my summer home." He snorted in what could have been a laugh.

Ace smiled to himself, fingers deftly turning the fruit in his grip. The peel fell to the ground and he licked a bit of juice from his thumb before he sliced a piece from the fruit. "Maybe you should," he mused and continued somewhat thoughtfully, "It's my belief that you... are a workaholic."

Smoker raised a brow and grunted noncommittally. Then, after only a brief hesitation he stood and moved to claim a spot on the other side of the firepit, closer to the pirate and the fruit he was peeling. As Ace sliced off a second piece, he leaned over and plucked it from the pirate's fingers, placing it in the corner of his mouth and sucking vaguely at it. He missed his cigars. Craved a fucking smoke like nothing else.

The action didn't escape Ace's notice but he said nothing, merely lifting a brow almost to himself. He had silently been wondering how long it would take for Smoker's addiction to start affecting him. He positively couldn't resist the opportunity to tease the Marine, slicing free another piece to reach over and push it between Smoker's lips beside the first, a smirk dancing in his eyes. "Two, right?" he said innocently.

Smoker leaned back, nearly losing the first bit of fruit in his surprise at the sudden contact. But he just grumbled and allowed the second piece to join the first, grinding his teeth against the pulpy, stringy flesh, sucking hard, until he had to pull it all into his mouth with a sweep of his tongue lest he lose it to the dirt at his booted feet. Once he had swallowed, he turned his chin back toward Ace and held out a rough calloused palm, in a silent request for more. 

It took a moment of surprised blinking at this display before Ace gathered his wits enough to kindly slice free two more pieces of stringy fruit meat. He was polite enough this time to slip them into Smoker's hand though he couldn't help but watch from the corner of his eye with silent amusement while he nibbled quietly at his own piece of fruit. It was very, very difficult to keep the grin off of his face. 

Smoker, for his part, steadfastly avoided the boy's eyes, nursing the pieces of fruit seriously, staring into the embers. He ignored the fact that Ace had somehow 'borrowed' his knife without his knowledge, for once not desiring to argue with the boy. He was rather enjoying the quiet coexisting, though he wouldn't admit it. Once again, the fruit grew too soft to stay firmly between his lips and once he'd swallowed the moist flesh, he was left with an even more acute craving for the texture, flavor, shape of his cigars. Smoker sighed heavily and leaned forward, elbows on knees.

Sucking down the last piece of mango, Ace rose to check their cooking meal. Finding it done, he pulled one spit lined with speared fish from the ground to offer it to Smoker. "It's not exactly tea on deck... but bon appetite, na?" he drawled. Ace himself wasn't even sure why he was being quite so... nice to the Marine -- the man who was by all means his rival, his enemy. The truth was though, as much as he enjoyed teasing and getting a rise out of Smoker, Ace simply wasn't good at holding grudges. There had never been much personal conflict that he had with the man -- it was just what they were that made them enemies, not who. Marine and pirate. 'Good' and 'evil'. But without ranks to order or shackles to hold or escapes to be made, they were just two men. 

Smoker nodded his quiet thanks and took the skewer from Ace. After a silent five minutes, during which Smoker managed to scald his impatient lips no less than four times, he finally left the fish to cool on their own and looking down at his dusty boots finally took a deep breath and turned to Ace, eyes narrowed defiantly, shoulders set confidently and managed to even make his lips work around the syllables of the question he'd been turning over and over in his head. "Why..." A cough. "Why did you... pull me out of the water?"

Ace blinked, pausing around a mouthful of fish -- the heat wasn't exactly an issue for him. He swallowed and leaned back against the rock behind him, taking a moment to regard Smoker silently, somewhat thoughtfully. "I've got nothing against you, taisa," he replied, mulling over it. The truth was, while he was a pirate he was hardly a bloodthirsty one. And his reaction to pull Smoker from the waves had been all but instantaneous, without a second thought. "It seemed a waste for my equal to be taken by the waves," he finally said and stood to retrieve a second spit of fish. When he seated himself again, he flopped down beside Smoker and he grinned then, wolfishly at the man. "Besides, what is a dastardly pirate without a righteous hero to chase him?"

Smoker almost smiled at this, but instead turned it into a skeptical snort. "'Righteous hero'?" he repeated. "That's a bit farfetched." Then sitting up, he dragged a rough hand through the choppy grey of his hair, looking up through the tree tops above. But the pirate was right. There was something about the chase. Perhaps Smoker would never admit it, but there was a definite thrill in the pursuit of a man he knew to be... his equal. He was surprised that Ace could admit this so readily. He seemed unafraid... incautious rather, of anything. And Smoker, in his own grudging way, respected that. He almost said something then. It was on the tip of his tongue, but then he noticed the fish he still held and they happened to have cooled enough to eat. 

There was a faint snicker on Ace's part at this remark -- an appreciation of the fact that for all his pursuit of justice, Smoker seemed to acknowledge the rather blurred line that existed between the concepts of right and wrong in the world. He said nothing after that though, secretly deriving some enjoyment of their unusual coexistence as well and for the moment distracted enough by the meal to keep him from initiating playful conflict. It wasn't until he was nearly through with his third spit that this was interrupted by a weight quite suddenly slumping into Smoker's shoulder, punctuated by a quiet snore. There seemed to be something about the boy and food that brought on these... instances. The spit was still clutched in his hand though his wrist hung loosely, draped over his knee as he slouched against Smoker.

Smoker looked over at the sleeping boy with a strange, half-startled expression and made as though to push him off. But something stayed his hand and he didn't move, simply turning his attention back to his fish and the fire and letting the boy slump against his shoulder. What did it matter anyway? Ace was sleeping, unaware of Smoker's uncharacteristic tolerance. He could afford the small kindness, he argued, in exchange for the meal. They were even again. 

Smoker failed, however, to justify his actions a short time later, when, upon finishing his own meal, lifted the boy from his shoulder and lay him on the ground near the fire, pillowing his head on Smoker's own jacket. He did his best to not even think about it when he slouched nearby, back against a log one eye on the boy until sleep tugged at his eyelids, and he, too, drifted off. 

 

When Smoker woke on their third day on the island, Ace was again missing. However, the short walk down to the beach revealed his whereabouts. At the treeline near Smoker's signal, the boy grinned and waved at Smoker down the beach as he approached. Donning his boots again and with his hair tied back in a short, fluffy tail with a piece of grass, Ace stood over a pair of small felled trees. The remaining stumps and the place where the tree had once met them were charred, eaten away by the boy's controlled flame. "Good morning," he said cheerfully, tearing thin branches from one of the fallen trees.

Still shaking the sleep from his eyes, Smoker approached, brow raised. "What's this?" he asked, waving at the charred trees.

"I'm building us a picket fence," Ace replied. "Really, no paradise is complete without one." He shot Smoker a cock-eyed grin but continued, joking aside, "This is our way out of here."

Smoker approached further, gaze running up and down the lengths of timber. "How exactly is it supposed to work?" he asked, hand rubbing at the back of his head. 

"Lash enough of these together with braided vines," Ace explained, distracted by using his flame to eat away the top of the tree at a measured point so that its length matched the clean log beside it. "We can probably salvage planks and nails from the other side of the island to reinforce it. It's slow-going," he admitted. He had to use a very small, controlled flame to slowly eat away the bark without charring the whole trunk. "But it'll work." 

Smoker nodded quietly as Ace explained. Then, "Let me help," he offered. 

The morning and afternoon was spent gathering supplies and bringing down the young trees that lined the beach. While Ace slowly ate away tree trunks, Smoker collected lengths of vines to later be braided into tight ropes. Though he was nearly recovered from the saltwater hangover, Ace found his stamina still not to be quite up to par -- by mid-day it was harder and harder for him to control the flame properly. Though he was working with small blazes, there was an intense concentration involved to keep the fire from causing any more damage than was intended. By the afternoon, six trees had been brought down and stripped into clean logs. Wiping his brow over the sixth, Ace had resigned that the rest of the day should be spent on catching dinner -- after a hearty snack of fruit, that is. He was wolfing down bananas when he approached Smoker who was measuring out lengths of vines, perched on a heavy piece of driftwood. 

Smoker looked up as Ace approached, then dropped the vines he was working with, standing, stretching out the kinks in his back and plucked a couple of the fruits from Ace's hands. "Thanks," he grated, stuffing one into his pocket and peeling the other. He took a bite and swallowed before waving to indicate the supplies laid out around him. "Probably need about three times this," he admitted. "But it's a good start."

Ace nodded and swallowed thickly before speaking, "Tomorrow we should make a trip back to pick up some wreckage," he said, glancing over the supplies scattered across their work area and the thickly smoking signal that had been fed all day by the refuse of Ace's work. "We should construct something to take enough fresh water for a few days of tra --" He was cut off by the sudden cry of birds from beyond the treeline and the wild flapping of wings and suddenly he was aware of a change in the air -- a shift that made the hair on the back of his neck raise. Moist. And cold. Within seconds a breeze had picked up and the sky was dimming, clouds starting to swirl across the blue. A jerked glance at the horizon and Ace's eyes widened -- black clouds roiled violently in the distance, lightning snaking between the sky and the sea. The first clap of thunder rolled through the wind which was gaining force with a speed known only to Grandline's fickle nature. "Shit!"

Smoker looked up as the first drops hit his face and shoulders and echoed Ace's curse, adding a few of his own, before grabbing up his knife, the remaining bananas and as much of the vines as he could carry. "Come on!" he hollered over the growing wind and began hurrying back toward the camp. If this was going to be anything like Grandline's unpredictable storms -usually- were, they'd need to take shelter and fast. Glancing back briefly to make sure the boy was following, he shouted, "Caves! This way!"

Ace mirrored the Marine's actions, managing to snatch up most of the rest of the vines. He spared only the briefest glance at the day's work, a second curse on his tongue but broke into a run after Smoker. The wind was howling now, fat raindrops pelting his back hard and the sun had dissapeared, leaving the sky dark with angrily swirling black clouds. By the time they'd reached the camp, thunder was rolling regularly through the wet air, trees and leaves whipping in the wild wind. Smoker yelled something over his shoulder but it was swept up in the wind and the din of the storm and Ace just shook his head, hair torn free of its tail and slapping with wet tendrils at his face. He followed the Marine, scrambling up the path that led to the clif, fighting against the wind and rain that eagerly tried to push him from the narrow trail. He could only hope that Smoker knew what he was doing, where they were going -- lightning streaked the sky and crashed to earth deafeningly, much too near for comfort. Not far from the ciff though, a bit deeper into the forest, Smoker ducked between some boulders to the side of the path. Ace was following shortly, finding himself suddenly out of the wind and able to hear their panting breath echoing off the sheltering walls of the cave. It was hardly expansive, though it appeared that tunnels snaked back into the rock, too narrow for either men to navigate. It would do -- it was unquestionably an improvement from the quickly worsening conditions outside. Heaving with breath, Ace dumped his armload to the stone floor to wipe his dripping hair out of his face and cast a glance back at the entrance. "Thank you, Grandline..." he muttered.

Smoker, too deposited his load on the dusty stone floor and sat, back to the cave wall as he ran both hands over and through his hair, shaking the rain from his fingers. He snorted at Ace's words. "Lucky it didn't start raining oil or frogs or some other impossible thing." He shook out of his jacket and laid it out over a nearby rock without standing. "It'll blow over." He shrugged, hoping he was right.


	4. Chapter 4

An hour into the fury of the storm there was no sign of letting up -- it only seemed more and more determined to either tear apart the island or sink it entirely. They were more than lucky for the shelter that was available for large pieces of debris whipped by in the angry, shrieking wind. 

This was going to set them back. There was no question that the remnants of the shipwreck would be swallowed by the sea or dashed against rocks by the wind. That meant more time to find an alternative to reinforce the raft. Not to mention that the felled trees were probably scattered splinters by now.

"At least we know we'll have plenty of drinking water," Ace finally remarked dryly, leaning against the stone wall.

Smoker grunted in response, and stifled a small shiver. The other boy might be made of fire, but here in the storm with his jacket soaking wet... well it was -cold-. And after a moment of quiet contemplation he glanced at the coat, then caught Ace's eyes and looked back to the garment. "Think you could do something about that for me?"

Ace blinked, glancing between Smoker and the jacket. There were times he forgot about his advantage. He was careful not to let lose the grin that threatened to pull at his mouth, instead adopting a thoughtful expression. He pulled himself to his feet and picked up Smoker's jacket, carefully inspecting it, then shook his head. "Leather... fur... I don't think I could do much without causing some severe damage," he said and placed the garment back down. However, when he seated himself again, he flopped down beside Smoker, closer even than he dared around the campfire. He was admittedly worn from working with his fire all day but but there was plenty of strength left in him to turn up his internal heat. And sitting close enough that his shoulder just almost brushed Smoker's, he offered that warmth without a word.

Smoker twitched, surprised at Ace's sudden presence, so damned close to him. And he considered briefly moving away. He was a man who appreciated and craved his personal space. And yet... Ace's personal space was... warm. Very warm. And his own skin betrayed him by shivering to get closer to that... offered? heat. So he didn't move, the slight shift in his posture that increased the contact between their shoulders, as subtle as though he didn't even notice it. 

"Well..." he cleared his throat, started again. "I suppose it'll dry out on its own."

For his part, Ace did nothing to deter the contact, in fact leaning slightly into Smoker's shoulder when he determined that little shift to be something similar to acceptance. He couldn't help but smirk faintly to himself, watching Smoker from the corner of his eye even though the other man was very careful about not looking at him. "Too bad you don't have your cigars," Ace quipped in a casual, unaffected tone. "I bet those would help keep you warm."

Smoker snorted in what could be assumed was agreement. This reminder, however, served to momentarily distract him from the cold and focus his attention on the severe lack of something in his mouth. He found himself chewing on his lower lip in the absence of anything better. 

Still their shoulders brushed. Smoker didn't say anything about it, secretly hoping the pirate would stay quiet as well.

And for some time, Ace did in fact stay quiet, housing silent amusement as he observed Smoker growing increasingly twitchy. Between the cold, the lack of nicotine and sharing a confined space with a pirate, he could only imagine that Smoker would quickly be loosing his mind. Eventually he spoke up though, turning slightly to reach a hand up and catch Smoker's jaw in his palm, squishing his cheeks between his thumb and fingers. "You'll bite your lips raw, you know," he remarked easily, lifting his eyes to grin into the Marine's face.

Smoker blinked comically at suddenly finding his face stretched out of shape and his lip slipped from between his teeth. Then he scowled and waved Ace's hand away. "Meh," was his answer. "'S fine," he protested vaguely. But he didn't immediately pulled his lip back into his mouth. And watched the pirate from the edge of his vision, pretending not to notice that somewhere in the exchange, the points of their hips had ended up touching. 

"I smoke too from time to time, you know," Ace remarked, glancing at Smoker with a smirk from beneath the black tendrils that hung in his face before he lifted a hand to rake his fingers through his hair. "But you really shouldn't let it control you so."

Smoker turned his face and scowled at the boy. "-It- doesn't control -me-," he corrected. "-I- control the smoke... It's just... I'm used to it," he finished lamely, gesturing to the empty space at the corner of his mouth. Then with a short humph he propped his chin in his hand and turned his gaze to the opposite wall. 

Something sparked in Ace's grinning eyes but when he spoke it was with thoughtful innocence. "So, it's not the smoke at all that you crave," he mused, tapping his chin. "But simply something to occupy your mouth? Hmmmm." There was a quick movement and Ace's warmth was suddenly closer, the warmth that radiated from him encompassing more of the air around Smoker -- mostly because the boy had swung around to place himself between the Marine's legs, trapping him between the stone wall and himself. His palms sank to the ground on either side of the older man as he leaned in. "That's pretty telling, Smoker-taisa." With very little more warning than that, he was catching Smoker's craving mouth with his own firmly, pressing him back against the rock and tonguing at the spot where the Marine's cigars normally resided.

Smoker's eyes flew wide, the protest dying in his throat as the boy's warmth pressed into his mouth, filling him, surrounding him with such soothing heat, that the chill of the cave and the storm raging outside were pushed away. And he almost lost himself before his hands remembered how to work and he was gripping Ace by the arms, pulling him from his lips. Catching his breath with difficulty, Smoker narrowed his eyes at the boy, lips flushed and parted and he finally asked, "What are you -doing-?"

"Helping?" Ace offered with a boyish grin, eyes mischievous. He didn't push against Smoker's protesting hands though, only let one hand lift for a warm palm to find its way to Smoker's hip. He was adventurous, uncautious, maybe even a little pushy but in spite of being a pirate, he did have a sense of decency. Somewhat. He was sure though that there was no need anyway to take what he wanted -- not when he was quite confident now that he had somehow worked his way under Smoker's skin, regardless of that gruff exterior.

Smoker groaned under his breath, neither pushing the boy away nor pulling him closer. His body conflicted with his common sense. Everything told him to cuff the pirate aside, break his jaw, his nose. But his body argued that the warmth was a welcome thing in this storm, the unpredictable weather of the Grandline. And so he hesitated, unmoving, searching the boy's eyes for evidence of some great practical joke.

Ace eased closer again, quiet mirth on his features but unhesitating. The hand on Smoker's hip slid slowly up his side. And when he found Smoker's mouth again it wasn't with the quick, jarring movement he'd displayed before but slow, pressing his lips to Smoker's with warm, coaxing coercion. Urging them to relax against his own. Raven strands tickled Smoker's cheeks.

Smoker swallowed hard and closed his eyes, trying desperately not to think of the pirate chained to the wall of the brig, eyes burning bright, defiant throughout his... interrogation. Tried not to think about how this had only made him want to beat the boy more, how it stirred a strange sick warmth in his stomach that even now he recalled. He wouldn't ever admit to himself that he'd wanted it. But his hands on Ace's shoulders tightened and he pulled the boy in, crushing their mouths together, digging his fingers harder into his arms. 

A faint, surprised sound caught in Ace's throat at the sudden increase in sensation, his hands thumping down on the stone wall behind Smoker to brace. After that initial surprise though there was only appreciation of the acceptance, of Smoker's rough mouth demanding his, just as acrid as Ace had imagined it would taste. Pressing himself against the other man firmly, he thrust his tongue past Smoker's lips, almost as though to prove he was up for the challenge. 

With Ace's heat so completely filling his mouth, Smoker had to fight for control, his large rough hands moving from the boy's arms over his shoulders and up his neck to tangle in the lank black hair. He hardly knew what strange desire seized him, but he found himself unable to take his eyes, his mouth from the pirate, the man he was supposed to hate most but who'd been gradually, slowly but surely, working his way past the Marine captain's impenetrable exterior.

A low moan vibrated between Smoker's teeth from Ace's throat, an arm somehow finding its way around the Marine's neck, clinging there, fingers raking through the bristly hair at the base of his skull. Everything about Smoker was rough, his calloused hands, his sinewed arms, his scratching stubble and harsh taste. All acute sensations across Ace's skin, only reminding him firmly of *who* this was -- every rough touch unmistakably Smoker. His skin was cool to Ace's warm hands grasping at his shoulders, groping at his flesh. Teeth nipped faintly at his lips, Ace's eyes smoldering with something rather unlike anything Smoker had seen there before.

All of a sudden, with the rain pounding outside and his pulse pounding beneath his ribs, it wasn't enough and he needed to touch to grab to squeeze more of the boy who looked almost frail in the dim stormy light. The callous of his palms scraped down the curve of Ace's back, over his ass, pressing, clutching at his thighs through the thick fabric of his shorts. 

He bit into the flesh of Ace's neck. "Bastard. Sly, seductive little monster," he growled, almost to himself. He wanted to rip those shorts off. He wasn't sure he wanted Ace to -know- how much he wanted those shorts off.

Ace was unable to suppress the shudder that tore through him as Smoker's hands trailed over the still-healing lashes that marked his back. That was all the confirmation he needed and within a moment he was shifting, pulling himself up to plant his knees on either side of the Marine's hips, straddling and sinking into his lap. He grinned unabashedly at the words, a soft grunt torn from his throat at the bite to his neck. He tilted his head though in silent demand for more. "You like it," he breathed. 

"Bastard," Smoker repeated, "I hate pirates," he insisted, though he silenced himself from further speech by recapturing Ace's lips, thrusting his tongue deep, tasting every inch and wanting more. He'd noted the shudder that shook the boy at the contact with the wounds on his back and he returned his hands to the damaged flesh, pressing and pulling, while refusing to relinquish his mouth.

The hands splayed on Smoker's chest tightened, fingertips digging into the flesh at the rough hands prodding at his wounds. While the lashes had healed shut for the most part, they were still a bit sensitive, particularly as an individual who didn't often experience his flesh being opened. Clutching at Smoker's shoulders, he fought the other man's tongue ferociously -- he didn't want Smoker to think he could win quite *that* easily. "Dirty Marine," he growled after breaking the kiss with a faint gasp. "I knew you enjoyed that a bit too much."

Smoker smirked at the accusation. "Shut up, pirate." And he pulled Ace closer, pressing and grinding the boy's hips against his own, filling his groin with heat, impossible to tell if it came from the boy and his fire or his own growing need. "And take these off." 

Mischief and defiance flickered above Ace's freckles, his breath carefully measured, refusing to reveal his own excitement in spite of the heat that he just as eagerly pressed into Smoker's lap. "You can't order me around," he shot back. Hot hands groped over his shoulders and ducking his head, an even hotter mouth found his throat, sucking, nipping at Smoker's flesh. "Take 'em off yourself," he murmured, a challenge in the other's ear.

"If you insist," Smoker replied and with little more warning, tossed Ace backwards into the pile of vines, heedless of the possible discomfort he might cause and then he was straddling his legs and tugging his shorts down to his ankles. He stopped then, a wide cool hand pressing up the inside of Ace's thigh. "This for me?" he asked, teasing. 

Ace was barely able to swallow the yelp of surprise, instead managing to turn it into a grunt as he suddenly found himself sprawled and tangled in their supplies. Regaining his wits, his gaze darted back to Smoker now looming over him. He'd completely expected Smoker's touch to be rough, aggressive, but somehow he thought he'd have to pry it out of the other man first. He was hardly complaining, though. Not with those heavy, rough hands on his skin so very close to his freed and undeniable erection. "Don't let it go to your head," he replied, shrugging vines off of his arms and tossing his ruffled hair away from his face. Kicking away his shorts, he drew a knee up behind Smoker, letting his thigh rub between his legs. 

"Mm. Too much talk," Smoker observed and roughly shoved the fingers of one hand into Ace's warm, wet mouth. Pinning him down by the shoulder with his other he smirked and rather wished he hadn't lost his jitte. It might have come in handy in this moment. 

Surprise again widened Ace's eyes -- it wasn't that he particularly *disliked* the rough treatment but he was loathe to let the Marine get away with too much, lest he think less of him next time they met in combat. He didn't reject the invasion however, instead sucking at the digits that pushed their way into his mouth, tonguing between Smoker's fingertips all the while meeting the other man's gaze evenly with hooded eyes. With the arm that wasn't firmly pinned, he reached for the waistband of Smoker's trousers, sliding a pair of fingers beneath it at his hip to bring them to the front, tugging at the clasp.

Smoker didn't stop him, instead leaning closer to let Ace's fingers undo the clasp, the zipper. Urging him on with smug eyes. Reaching past the pirates thigh, he found the boy's weeping heat and wrapping it in his thick rough palm, began to pull. 

Ace's eyelids fluttered at the contact, his hips tilting just slightly into Smoker's grip, his hot mouth sucking harder at the fingers that filled it. That heavy palm was exquisite, just right, rough and unforgiving. He only allowed himself the briefest moment to revel in that feeling though, forcing himself to focus before he allowed Smoker to completely get the upper hand. Fingers pushed past the waistline of Smoker's pants, his palm pressing over the very... sizable hardness still trapped by his Marine-issue briefs. With his breath quickening with pleasure and want, Ace tugged Smoker's garments over his hips. The faintest of moans vibrated against Smoker's fingers as his fingers found the Marine's thick cock with bold, exploring touches.

Smoker allowed his eyes to shut briefly, his lips to part as the boy traced his arousal with maddeningly gentle touches. He pulled his fingers from Ace's mouth them, using his hand instead for support as the marine leaned over the boy, eyes narrowed in concentration, hips and thighs tensing with restraint. Still he stroked and thumbed and pulled at Ace's cock, determined to not be distracted entirely.

His lips free, Ace panted softly, breathing in the wet air warmed with his own heat, breathing in Smoker's musk. His all-but-teasing hand was joined by his other, both wrapping around Smoker's length in earnest, pumping hard, refusing to be outdone. His brow tightened and bowed, hips twitching into Smoker's touch, eyes squeezed shut. He knew Smoker was just as determined, if not moreso, to be the one to last it out, leading to a contest of rough, fervent strokes. But while he was evenly matched with Smoker when it came to strength, the Marine outweighed him with self-control and soon Ace's rhythm was starting to fall apart, his head thrown back and teeth clenched as he found himself too close to release far too soon.

A feral grin lit Smoker's face and he growled as his hand picked up the rhythm, thumb dragging across Ace's flushed head. "Yess..." he hissed, all but forgetting the hands on his own cock, so distracted by the sight of the tense, writhing boy beneath him, so intent on bringing him to release. Power games. The Marine liked power games. And he made it a rule to win.

"Nngh... a-ah--!" Ace's back twisted, his grip on Smoker's cock tightening, jerking erraticly as he unsuccessfully fought off his climax. His voice was ripped from his throat but was all but drowned out by the thunder that crashed outside. The liquid that spurted over Smoker's fingers was so hot it steamed when it hit the cooler air, painting Ace's heaving stomach and chest while his feet between Smoker's scrambled for purchase. 

Smoker cursed with the heat and released Ace's cock to knock away the boy's hands. "Enough of that," he choked out the words and let his hands fall roughly on Ace's hips, taking advantage of the boy's moment of vulnerability to turn him over, a hand on the back of his neck holding the pirate down while Smoker rubbed at his own cock, until it shone slick with Ace's come.

"Oi!" Ace managed to protest, still breathing hard from his climax and pushing back against Smoker's hand. A dark flush heated his cheeks as he realized his position and a sharp pang of indignation rippled through him. Shoving the vines away, in a split second he had flickered into his ethereal form only to rematerialize half a moment later with a burst of harsh heat, crouched in front of Smoker. Hands shoved heavily against the Marine's chest, knocking him backwards for Ace to crawl forward. "I'm not your *prisoner* here," he growled, a hand catching Smoker's pants still tangled around his thighs to push them slightly lower as he placed himself between the other's knees. 

Even with the small measure of anger in his voice, his expression was sly as he leaned in over Smoker's lap, breathing hot over his erection, wet with dripping precum and his own smeared pleasure. He was hardly about to admit it to the other man but he balked slightly at the idea of having this inside of him -- it wasn't that he'd never been fucked before but not by anyone with Smoker's... girth. If the Marine wanted that, it'd be on *his* terms. And at the moment, his terms involved a hot tongue bathing the musky, salty flesh of Smoker's head.

A hand shot out to grab Ace by the hair pulling his head back so Smoker could catch his eyes. He didn't like his plans being suddenly changed. He didn't want the gentle wet touches of Ace's tongue. He wanted tight and hot and breathless. And he wanted to take it. Now. But Smoker was smart enough to realize that he'd have to compromise if he didn't want to risk Ace backing out now. "Just... a bit." he conceeded. He craved too strongly to wait much longer. 

With one hand bracing on Smoker's hip, Ace shot him a grudging look before turning his eyes away, turning his attention to the Marine's straining need, lips sliding over his head. He was careful not to provide *too* much stimulation, letting saliva drip down Smoker's length while he tongued at his slit, sucked at the flushed skin, tasting himself mingled with Smoker's own strong taste. Taking a moment to wet his fingers and balancing with his free hand, he reached between his own legs, careful not to let his breath quicken too much as he prodded at himself. His brow tensed as he slid wet fingers into himself, willing himself into relaxation even as he distracted himself with Smoker's cock.

Smoker watched, saying nothing, staring, only slightly wide-eyed, watching the boy touch himself. The sight made his stomach grow warm, his cock throb. Ace's tongue was a tease, a tiny taste of what Smoker really desired. And he found his hand snaking up into Ace's hair, kneading, tugging, pressing at the back of his head. As he watched the pirate ready himself, Smoker slouched a bit, spreading his knees wide, inviting. 

Ace's restraint was quick to betray him again -- with Smoker's cock so fully filling his mouth, the taste of sweat and precum and his own pleasure washing over his tongue. With impatient hands pulling at his hair, pushing his lips further along Smoker's length. With his own fingers buried deep, spreading himself, on his knees between Smoker's legs. It wasn't long at all before that heat was balling again in his stomach as he thrust his fingers harder, moaning around Smoker's cock and gripping at the Marine's hip. At the sound of the other man's growl and his fingers tightening in Ace's raven hair, pulling him back, he let his lips slide away with a faint gasp as he pulled his fingers from himself. Then regaining some of his control, he was crawling into Smoker's lap, shoving him back against the stone wall. "I thought Marines were supposed to be virtuous," the pirate remarked, managing to keep his panting under control, "Isn't patience a virtue?" In spite of the words though, he was straddling Smoker's lap, a hand on the cock rubbing so persistently at his ass. His cocky confidence faltered slightly though as he sank down over Smoker's slick length, a faint sound choked off in his throat as he bit his lip. His freckled features twisted with exquisite agony, his free hand clutching hard at Smoker's shoulder.

Smoker's mouth hung open, neck arched just a bit and he hissed as his palms fell to Ace's hips, guiding, coaxing his way deeper into that impossibly tight heat. He knew then, from Ace's swallowed whimper, from the way his face flushed pink and tense, from the quivering stretch of skin around his cock, that the boy had never taken someone such as Smoker before. And in a moment of uncharacteristic tenderness, he slowed his motions, swallowed the devilish temptation to spear the boy bloody and instead breathed carefully through his nose, allowing Ace the chance to feel and grow accustomed. His hands, though, he could not still from sweeping up the boy's back and down his sides and across the clenched tight muscles of his ass, already sweat-slick. He growled again, eyelids heavy, wordlessly urging the boy to move.

It wasn't much longer than a moment though, with Smoker nearly hilted in Ace's heat, that the younger man's muscles stopped their shivering, relaxing. His shoulders though stayed tense, his breath heavy but even and he licked his lips, eyes slitting open to peer into Smoker's face with a new fire glowing in them. "You really need to learn to stop underestimating me," he said quietly as his hands came to rest on the Marine's chest. Tensing again, with a quick, rough movement, he shoved himself down further yet on Smoker's length, then drawing himself up, doing it again, quick, jerky movements. Even in all his confidence, Ace's head tossed back though he managed to hold back the cry that threatened to burst from his throat.

Smoker smirked, jaw tight, brow furrowed as the boy rode his cock, shuddering but steady, and he refused to remove his hands from Ace's waist. "And you need to learn to stop interrupting the moment with pointless conversation," he ground out between clenched teeth, digging his thumbs more firmly into Ace's hips. Since the boy obviously had no qualms about taking what he wanted, neither would Smoker bother to worry about the boy's comfort. 

Ace flashed a sliver of white in a breathless grin, still all challenge and confidence and smugness, in spite of everything. In spite of his own aching erection, growing increasingly demanding of attention. In spite of Smoker's rough hands tightly gripping his hips, mercilessly yanking him down on his cock, sending shocks of sensation surging through him. Even as the intensity of it forced choked, grunted sounds from his throat, he smirked at the Marine with narrowed eyes and tense brows. Hands came to rest on Smoker's muscled stomach, bracing for leverage, letting him meet Smoker's pulling hands and twitching hips, daring to pick the pace up further, to thrust himself down on Smoker harder. Fast, careless movements that in spite of his attempted cool made Ace's fingers twist against Smoker's skin, made the corners of his lips pull back in agony and bliss, that made his shoulders tense and his head bow and his breath grow fast and ragged. 

Smoker wasn't unaware of the boy's own need, indeed it was near tangible in the heat that hung about them both, the flickers that danced across his flesh and died only to spark to life again. But it wasn't in his nature to give in to other people's desires... of -any- sort before he was good and ready to. And so he fucked the boy harder, pulling him down faster, waiting until the last moment to close his large rough palm around the boy's cock. By the time he finally touched Ace, the edges of Smoker's own form were beginning to blur and steam, thin tendrils of smoke wafting from his heated skin.

A strangled cry broke free of Ace's lips as that grip found him, making his carefully constructed defenses crumble -- he hadn't honestly expected Smoker to pay him any regard in that respect and the onslaught of sensation was almost too much. Curling foward his arms snaked suddenly around the Marine's neck, pressing his face into the flesh that smelled like smoke, biting hard on his own lip to keep his voice under control. Hands scrambled for something to ground him, grasping at the flesh that steamed between his fingers, tangling in Smoker's short hair. Gasping pants, broken with choked-back moans filled the Marine's ears as Ace again struggled to hold back, trying so hard not to give in to Smoker's rough touches, to the heat filling him so fully, stroking him so hard in places that made his insides boil, that made his flesh shiver and spark and flicker with flame. 

But Smoker would not be detered, once he had decided the boy would be the first to admit his pleasure, he would not back down until he'd seen it, heard it. He would not give in to his own need until then and so he let his hand ride the heat of Ace's flame, let his smokey grip swirl about the boy, while remaining as firm as before, as determined. And rather like that night above his lost ship, smoke and fire threatened to merge. 

The heat was rising rapidly, Ace's nails seared into Smoker's flesh, the licks of flame that flickered across his flesh growing with intensity and height, only adding to the firestorm of passion that was forming in the tight proximity they shared. That touch was so strange -- rough, gripping fingers and soft, swirling smoke, slipping over him, squeezing him, roiling around his flesh. Overwhelming every inch of his body, filling him, surrounding him, mixing and swirling with him in their classic struggle for power. And curling inward, back arching over Smoker's frame, fire both metaphorical and literal shot up his spine and a second strangled cry was muffled into Smoker's neck, breathing him in, gasping in lungfuls of smoke that somehow he didn't choke on but only seemed to heighten the storm of sensation until finally he was spilling so hot through his smokey grip. Muscles twisting and hands grasping and sparks showering, he pressed his face so tightly into the Marine's neck, shuddering and shaking and flickering as his climax tore wildly through him and burned the flesh of Smoker's stomach.

It was all he had been waiting for, that burst of flame, breaking through, twisting into and around his smoke and if he he felt the searing on his flesh, he cared not at all, or perhaps he reveled in it. Either way his own tight reins fell away and with a deep moan he followed Ace, face tense, smokey limbs wrapping tightly around the boy's torso as though he meant to break him, but no he only meant to fill him, to feed his smoke with Ace's fire. 

Gasps were wrenched from Ace's throat with each hard, powerful pulse of Smoker's climax so deep within him and surging throughout him, letting him steal a second wave as Smoker's form swirled with his own, traveled through his lungs, clung to his hair, wound around and through him. Somehow his arms managed to stay locked around the Marine's neck though he felt so far away from his body, as though he'd flickered away into his ethereal form -- or the form that he and Smoker made together. Finally though, the surge of flame and the roil of smoke ebbed and only thin whisps and tiny lingering licks of fire remained and Ace was shivering slightly, not out of cold. His arms still around Smoker's neck and pressed tightly against his front, black hair sticking to his sweaty skin.

Smoker's eyes were closed and he sat upright, strong arms, flesh and bone once more, still circled tight around the boy's torso and he breathed, deep and quiet and refused to speak. Almost as though he could not. As though he thought he were still inside the boy, still a part of that swirling column of storm, or wished he was. But these were thoughts we was never meant to have and with a quiet cough he made an effort to shake himself from the spell that Ace seemed to have held over him. 

For once Ace was quiet, mostly because he'd dozed off in the curve of Smoker's shoulder. At the sound of that cough though he jerked and half-woke, eyes rather bleary and blinking as Smoker shifted beneath him. "Nngh," he mumbled and his hold around Smoker's neck tightened. "Let's stay here... s'comfy..." With this he nuzzled himself back into the Marine's neck and shoulder, as though seeking for something warmer than himself.

Smoker hesitated, that formal nagging part of him protesting this position, this situation in it's entirety. But no one told Smoker what to do. Even his conscience. And so with a mental admonishment to shut his brain the hell up, the marine leaned back against the cave wall, pulling the lithe, warm body, which somehow seemed impossibly small in the afterglow of such a swelling blaze, more firmly against him. The storm still raged outside the cave and this night would be a cold one without the shared warmth of two bodies. It wasn't long before he too felt sleep tug at his eyelids and he nodded off with his nose pressed into the dark hair that still smelled vaguely of cinder.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OH SHEESH!!! I just realized that when I reposted this, I forgot to include the final chapter. So here you go, the final chapter.

When the sun rose again, the clouds had cleared and the sun was sparkling outside off of every droplet on the very wet island. Ace was dead to the brightening world though, having slept limply against Smoker's shoulder for the whole of the night. A thin trickle of saliva was dripping dangerously close to Smoker's skin. 

Smoker awoke to a faint wetness slipping down his neck. He blinked blearily and found an arm still around the sleeping boy curled in his lap. Drooling. He groaned quietly and decided it was too early to be awake. 

As Smoker shifted slightly as he woke, Ace's lips worked comically, his brow bowing. He sighed and mumbled, snuggling himself closer and deeper into Smoker's neck. Another sigh, this one deep and content was followed by a stretching silence -- until quite suddenly Ace jerked to life, abruptly sitting straight up in Smoker's lap. "Dok---!" A blink. Staring, wide-eyed into Smoker's face. Another blink. "Oh." He brightened then, a broad smile showing his teeth. "Good morning."

Smoker's eyes cracked open narrowly and he grunted in response, lifting a heavy hand to the top of Ace's head and sending his hair all askew with a few rough strokes. "...yaro..." he muttered, half-heartedly and pushed at Ace's forehead in an attempt to dislodge the boy from his lap.

"Grumpy," Ace chided, blowing stray strands away from his face. And ducking under that hand, he pressed a quick kiss at the corner of Smoker's mouth before ducking away again. It may have been sheerly for the sake of rubbing the Marine's nerves because he was entirely nonchalant as he lifted himself to his feet and stretched. He even managed not to wince at the slight lingering soreness and took a moment to muse over the fact than unlike anyone else Smoker seemed to be able to take advantage to inflict the physical pain that Ace was usually so good at avoiding. His hair was wild and he ran his fingers through it in an attempt to get it out of his face as he ducked his head outside. A slight frown threatened to pull at his mouth -- the sun was out but the ground was positively littered with debris that the storm had scattered. "The rain stopped."

Smoker climbed to his feet and followed Ace to the mouth of the cave. He took a moment to survey the damage for himself and after a moment he nodded. "And some of the trees are even still standing." He nudged at the trunk of a tree which had split in half and lost it's base somewhere in the storm. "Guess you won't need to burn down new logs..." he remarked, dryly.

Ace was watching Smoker's half-hitched pants ride lower down his hips when the words registered and snapped his attention back. "Ah," he replied equally dryly. "Unfortunately it also means that all the debris from ship wreck is probably splinters by now. This is going to set us back." With saying the words aloud though he couldn't help but smirk faintly to himself, realizing that perhaps it wasn't such a bad thing.

Smoker tugged absently at his pants, reaching to zip them back up, but didn't bother buttoning them. At Ace's words, he shrugged. For some reason, he wasn't worried. They'd solve this like they solved each obstacle that had been thrown toward them thus far and he hardly noticed he'd started thinking of the two of them as a sort of team. It hadn't been intentional...

Ace yawned and stretched again before ducking back into the cave to retrieve his shorts and Smoker's jacket which was considerably more dry, most likely due to the previous night's activities heating up the cave. He tossed the jacket to Smoker before stepping into his shorts -- which were by now growing tattered and frayed at the edges from the abuse they'd taken in the recent week. "C'mon, I'm starved. Let's get some breakfast."

The day was spent rethinking the raft. The long walk back to the other side of the island revealed that the beach was in fact all but devoid of any debris which meant that they would have to collect more supplies than originally planned, to which the remainder of the day was dedicated. The day was hot and after a meal, Ace was revitalized and seemed to have regained most if not all control over his flame and made quick work of several trees so kindly felled by the storm before starting to bring down a few more. Smoker meanwhile began the task of braiding the vines that had been collected and thankfully mostly saved from the storm into rope.

There was all but no acknowledgement of the previous night's events, except for the few times that Ace decided to make a pest of himself by nipping Smoker's ear or shoulder in passing only to continue on his way as though he'd done nothing. Otherwise nothing seemed to have shifted -- except that perhaps they were working better together. Even if Ace still made it a point to tease the stoic Marine at any given opportunity. 

The heat carried on into the evening, a humid heat that once it started to cool resulted in a most pleasant atmosphere. The fishnets had been lost in the storm so dinner was several wild birds courtesy of Smoker's White Snake which seemed to be back up to par. Ace was only too happy for the change in meals though and was practically salivating as they waited for the meat to finish cooking.

Smoker found it rather easier than expected to fall back into routine and the simple labors involved in the raft construction, and in the preparation of meals. He honestly hardly thought about the night before. Had firmly decided not to dwell on it. Smoker was not a man to regret his actions. He took what he wanted, gave what he wanted and made it a habit never to regret either. Never mind that last night's activities had involved the first mate of perhaps the most notorious pirate on Grand Line. Never mind that boy was at least a good 10 years his junior. Never mind all that. Smoker did as he pleased and anyone who dared confront him about it was likely to find themselves getting real friendly with a certain White Snake. In the meantime, the aforementioned pirate was in the process of reaching into the fire for the spit which held the larger of the two birds. Not that the fire was any danger to Ace, but the meat wasn't, he was sure, remotely cooked well enough to eat and he struck out across the way with a warning ring of smoke around the boy's wrist. "Wait," he insisted. 

"Fu..." Ace pouted dramatically, shaking the smoke off but he did flop to the ground to continue watching the meal from a safe distance. The bananas that had been picked had since lost their allure even to Ace, with the smell of meat hanging in the air, mocking him. The camp that they'd established near the freshwater spring had been a mess of debris which had mostly been cleared away. When the meal was finally ready, Ace made short work of his, only too ravenous at the prospect of real meat. He'd all but cleaned the skeleton and was making his way through several mangos for desert when Smoker settled in, sucking at a bone to appease his fixation. Pulling himself to his feet, Ace took a moment to toss a few more pieces of wood on the fire as an excuse before flopping down beside Smoker with a content sigh and a satisfied grin. "That was so much better than fish -- maybe tomorrow you catch something *really* big."

Smoker raised a brow as the boy's shoulder bumped his and grunted in response. "If anything bigger than those scrawny fowl lives on this island..." He continued to gnaw on the bone, sucking out the soft marrow and switching occasionally from one corner of his mouth to the other. With his feet to the fire, the Marine leaned back against the stump of a storm-felled tree and turned his eyes up to the darkening sky. 

With less and less hesitance, Ace leaned into Smoker's arm, letting his head loll against the Marine's shoulder, making himself comfortable. Even if Smoker was all muscle, he was still more comfortable than rocks and dirt. "At least we don't have to worry about dinosaurs being attracted to the smell of our dinner," he mused, looking on the bright side. A long silence stretched, the fire popping quietly while Ace's hair tickled at Smoker's neck and for a moment there was no teasing or protesting or bickering and just when Smoker thought Ace had fallen asleep, the boy spoke up again, "You have to admit though... it could have been worse." 

"It can -always- be worse," Smoker replied immediately, but then after a brief, quiet pause he added, admitted. "...yeah. Coulda been." He didn't even push the pirate off his shoulder. Though he inwardly scolded himself for this. How had he let this... whole thing become so comfortable? It wasn't appropriate at all, he rationalized. And yet.... he stayed where he was, the young pirate practically nuzzled against his arm and simply... let it happen. And after the silence stretched into several minutes, he finally spoke up again, "What made you become a pirate?"

Ace blinked several times, surprised at the question -- or rather, surprised that Smoker was asking something about him. Suspicion flared up in him briefly that this was some way for Smoker to extract more useful information from him -- for while a lot had changed in the last few days, some things would always stay the same. When he spoke again, there was the slightest trace of caution in his voice though he made an effort to come off as nonchalant, offering a shrug of his shoulders. "The promise of adventure, the longing for distant lands, the comradery. Nothing you wouldn't see in a Marine recruitment brochure," he said. "But without the uniform and with just a little more crime."

Smoker couldn't help but give a chuckle. He looked down at his own person. "And I don't even wear the uniform. First thing that went when I got my commandership, that ugly teal scarf." Again, the Marine lapsed into silence, honestly surprised at his own daring. He blamed it on the boredom. On the lack of cigars, on the storm, on the lazy tropical weather, anything but genuine interest in conversing with the pirate. "Don't you get tired of being always on the run? With such a sizable bounty on your head, you can't honestly trust anyone..." Pirates... he wasn't sure any explanation could truly make him understand the appeal. 

Ace gave another shrug, a faintly rueful smile tugging at his lips. "Don't you ever get tired of chasing after annoying little shits?" he teased and snickered faintly. "Or having the World Government butt in on your business?" He turned slightly so that his back was against Smoker's arm and tilted his head back to look up at the sky while resting on Smoker's shoulder. "Every lifestyle has its ups and downs. Besides..." And here he grinned faintly, letting his gaze turn back to Smoker from the corner of his eye. "Maybe there's something of a thrill. Even though I always know I'll escape."

"All the pirates I might possibly get tired of chasing after are the ones I catch right away," Smoker responded, absolutely serious, though his lips twitched in the warning of a grin. "And don't get cocky, pirate. I'll catch you." The vaguest of shrugs. "...When I get tired of the chase." 

At this, Ace laughed out loud and shifted again, letting himself sink back into Smoker's lap, smirking into the Marine's face broadly. "We'll see. Don't you get too cocky either. That's how I keep... slipping through your fingers." His eyes slit slyly over his freckles then. "Nice to know that nothing's changed though," he said, reaching to hook a hand behind Smoker's neck, pulling him down. His voice dropped as he pulled the Marine closer. "Not that I don't fully intend to take advantage of this... intermission in the chase."

Smoker swallowed, meeting the pirate's eyes evenly. "Best appreciate it while you can," he replied, ever stubborn, but cut any further response short by meeting Ace's mouth firmly. Smoker was a Marine commander, he knew what he wanted. And for the second time in the last 24 hours, he took it.

 

The next morning was another one of those mornings where Ace was no where to be found, though his boots were missing so Smoker could only assume he'd traipsed off into the jungle. Any brief thought he had about the pirate though was cut short by the low, resonating sound of a horn cutting through the morning air. 

"Shit!" he swore and pulled on his jacket, kicking dirt over the smoldering remains of their fire and hurried to the cove, where he'd re-lit the signal fire the day before and where, as he'd expected, a Marine ship now bobbed in the waves, men in white shirts and blue scarves scurrying about the deck. He wasted no time in using his White Snake to grab hold of the ship's bow and pull himself on board. Snatching up the nearest private, Smoker snarled into the boy's startled face, "Bring me your captain."

"I'm the captain of this ship, and may I ask who you are that you would board my ship with no introductions or explanations?" A thin, scruffy man of at least half a foot less height stepped up to Smoker. 

He released the private and turned toward the ship's commander. "*Captain* Smoker, East Blue Marines, Loguetown Bata--" his words were interrupted however, by the sound of heavy footsteps running toward them.

"Taisa!" The high-pitched, half-panicked voice was unmistakable, and if that wasn't enough, the dark, ruffled head diving face first into the deck at his feet was certainly adequate to identify his own second-in-command. 

"Tashigi..." So some of the others had survived the destruction of their ship after all.

The be-speckled Sergeant-Major climbed to her feet, face flushed as she greeted her previously-presumed dead commander. "Taisa! They, they all thought you were dead, but I knew you'd have survived!" She turned a hesitant, lip-biting smile on him, but Smoker spared hardly a moment to acknowledge her words before he was scowling at the ship's captain and waving an arm toward the island.

"That damned pirate, Whitebeard's second, is still out there. Send your men after him!"

"W-whitebeard's second in command?" the captain's stoic exterior finally cracked at the mention of the infamous name. 

"I recommend seastone weapons, if you've got them," Smoker added. 

The captain's eyes widened further. "S-Seastone?" 

Smoker scowled. "Yes, man! Did I stutter? Pirate, wanted pirate, high bounty, seastone. Am I not making myself clear?" 

Meanwhile, Tashigi stood by, gaping. "Portgas D. Ace? He was on this island as well? With you?" 

Smoker fought the red that threatened to spring to his cheeks. He growled instead. "Yes, Sergeant, and now he's going to escape unless we all pick up our jaws and go get him. Now."

The ship's captain was still agape, along with about half his crew on deck, staring at their captain and this new officer who was somewhat bedraggled, clothes well-worn from his stay on the island. Finally, flustered, Tashigi turned to them and shouted, "You heard him! Man the rowboats!"

The deck exploded into a flurry of activity, men scrambling for the boats, shouting to one another as they manned the ropes and the small boats splashed loudly as they hit the water. With several boats approaching the shore, Tashigi, Smoker and the ship's captain were about to board the last boat set to sail, when another loud splash from the other side of the ship signalled yet another boat being launched. However, there should have been no men on that side of the ship.

"OI! Taisa!"

Smoker swore under his breath, boots thumping on the deck as he ran across the ship, Tashigi at his heels. Just as he'd feared Ace was in one of the rowboats, grinning broadly up at them. A private's shirt and scarf which were rather too small for him were pulled over his shoulders and his wild black hair had been tucked into a Marine-issue hat which he presently pulled off and tossed away.

"Thanks for the boat, this'll be much more pleasant now!" he called cheerfully. "Oh, and Smoker, if they happened to find my hat, do hang on to it for me. I'm sure we'll meet again." With this, sitting at the stern of the small boat, Ace's fist lit up with roiling flame and he lowered it toward the water until the churning flames touched the surface, roiling the water angrily and pushing the boat forward with sudden speed, unmatched by even the strongest winds.

Smoker wasted no time in whipping White Snake out across the waves, but somehow, though his powers should have been fully recovered, he smoky serpent just happened to miss the the stern of the small boat by the barest of inches and then Ace was out of reach. Smoker's arm pulled back, materializing once again into flesh and bone, and even at this distance, he found and locked eyes with the pirate. As Ace sailed away with a wink and a wave, Smoker's frustrated scowl dissolved into a grin. And much to the surprise and confusion of his second officer, the Marine captain lifted a hand to smooth back his disheveled hair and laughed, a full-throated sound as he turned from the railing and brushed by Tashigi, who followed, a thousand questions on her tongue, silenced quickly with a jerk of his hand. 

Or so he'd hoped. "Taisa! What -happened-? How did you survive? Are, are you all right?.. Should... should we send the men after him?"

Smoker paused and stepped to the side enough to avoid Tashigi's inevitable stumble. He gave a firm shake of his head. "Don't bother. He'll only burn the boats..." Leaving the other questions stubbornly unanswered, Smoker merely offered the girl a hand as she straightened back up, curiosity burning evident in her gaze. He sighed. "Look, if you want to make yourself useful, you'll find me a couple of cigars and fucking match." 

Tashigi nodded, mumbling, red-faced, and hurried off to the other end of the ship presumably to alert the rest of the crew to the pirate's escape and with any luck to beg a bit of tobacco from one of the other Marines. 

Smoker meanwhile spared one last glance out to the horizon when he found himself alone again. Ace's purloined ship was a mere speck by now and the Marine could do nothing but lift one hand to his brow in what appeared suspiciously like a salute. 

"Don't get cocky, Portgas... One of these days..."


End file.
